The Wild Hunt
by hunterofartemis126
Summary: Mark Blackthorn was kidnapped by faeries during the Dark War and he was forced to join the Wild Hunt. How will he survive in a world where he believes that his family are dead? Will the arrival of an arrogant young Faerie Prince to the Hunt help him or will he simply have one more person shunning him?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Artifices, Cassandra Clare does.

PROLOGUE

Prince Kieran sighed as he moved through the dark, stony tunnels of the Unseelie Court. His father, the king, rarely sent for him and he couldn't help feeling a little apprehensive.

Although Kieran was a prince of the Unseelie Court, he was one of the youngest and therefore did not have a lot of power in the court. He also found it extremely difficult to make friends in the court as most of the courtiers were centuries older than him and did not have much respect for him.

As he approached the heavy black iron doors of his father's throne room, he got the uneasy feeling that something unpleasant was going on. He could not say quite what it was, but he knew that whatever it was, he did not want to find out. Slowly, he reached out and opened the heavy doors.

The inside of his father's throne room was dimly lit and huge. The walls were made of a glossy black stone and the floor was set with darkly gleaming gem stones. His father sat, upright and stiff, on a throne of dark wood carved with images of leaves and vines.

"Father," Kieran said formally, bowing low in front of his father's throne, "You wanted to see me?"

His father looked down at him, his expression was as hard and cold of the iron doors of his throne room. He was a tall, slender man with a large quantity of dark green hair and he had a gold and black crown on his head. His skin was pale and his eyes, the same black as Kieran's, were slightly unnerving.

"Indeed," Replied the king in his low, deep voice. "I called you here, Kieran, to tell you that you are leaving my court."

Kieran stared at his father with barely concealed shock. It was true that he did not have friends among the court but it was still the only home that he had ever known. "I am to leave the court?" Kieran echoed. "Have I done some wrong that I do not know of?"

His father gave him a cold smile which made cold shivers run up Kieran's spine. "No, my son," The king told him, "You have committed no wrong. However, I have decided that you will be sent to Gwyn, the hunter to join him and the Wild Hunt as relations between our people and his have been strained in the past few years."

Kieran stared at his father. He had heard of the Hunt of course but he had no desire to join them. He felt his heart sinking. He knew from his father's icy tone that there was no way to convince him to change his mind but he had to try. "Father, I would not fit in with the other Hunters. They will not tolerate me, and I will not be content with them."

"That makes no difference to me," His father told him, "You will join the Hunt, Kieran. My decision is final."

With that, the door behind Kieran opened with a bang and two of his father's guards came in. To his shock and annoyance, he found himself being bound in chains and dragged away. His last thought, as he was dragged out of the throne room was that he would not let the Hunters break him. He was a prince of Faerie and he would not allow them to take that away from him, even if he had to endure pain to maintain his dignity.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Artifices, Cassandra Clare does.

Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone who has read the story so far. Special thanks to the people who are following the story, I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review and let me know what you think.

Chapter 1: A New Arrival

Mark Blackthorn winced in pain as he rode his horse towards the dark cavern which was situated close to the entrance of the Unseelie court. The others had whipped him again yesterday and the wounds still stung and burned, like the stings of oversized wasps.

Mark sighed as he caught up with the other hunters outside the cavern entrance. They were getting a new hunter today, Gwyn had told them but Mark was far from thrilled at the news.

Mark had been taken by the Fair Folk some time ago, during what was now called The Dark War. He had joined the Wild Hunt because he'd been told that his entire family had died. Then, not long after he'd been taken, he learned that the faerie Meliorn had lied to him but he could not return to his family without the permission of Gwyn, the fierce leader of the Wild Hunt, who he knew would not grant it.

Now, standing here at the entrance to the cavern, he wondered what this new hunter would be like. Most likely he would be just like the rest—keen to make Mark's life miserable.

The Hunters ahead of Mark started to move into the cavern, and he followed them. Gwyn always liked to turn new recruits in this place he'd realised, so it was always clear when they were going to have a newcomer amongst them.

Mark looked around the cavern, searching for the newest recruit. After a moment, his eyes fell on a dark shape hunched near one of the cavern's moss-covered walls.

"Prince Kieran," Gwyn said in his low rough voice. The dark shape moved and Mark realised that it was a slender boy with thick dark hair. He couldn't see the boy's face clearly in the dim light but when Gwyn tried to give him his blood—mixed with water in a cup—which would make him one of the Hunt, the boy turned his face away. Gwyn forced the boy to drink the water anyway and when he did, the chains, which had been binding his wrists and ankles fell away. The boy rose, and now Mark could see him clearly, and moved towards the others.

Mark studied the boy as he moved towards them. He was obviously a prince of Faerie, that was clear in the arrogant set to his chin and the white gauntlets that he wore. His hair was very dark blue, so dark that it could have easily been mistaken for black and his eyes were two different colours: one was black and the other was a bright silver. He glanced away, not wanting the prince to see him staring.

Gwyn went outside the cavern and returned, holding the reins of a black, skeletal horse.

"Here is a steed for you," Gwyn said, handing the reins to Kieran. "I assume you know how to ride, Kieran?"

"Indeed," The prince answered, getting onto his horse. Mark noticed that the prince had not really looked at Gwyn when he spoke. Interesting, Mark thought, maybe there was something different after Kieran after all.

As the Hunters moved out of the cavern, Mark fell into his normal place at the back of the group. To his surprise he was, for the first time, not alone. Kieran had also moved to the back of the group and was riding a few feet behind Mark. Mark frowned. He had thought that Kieran would be near the front with the others but he seemed to be doing his level best to ignore them.

Mark glanced back at Kieran. He wondered why the prince had been sent to join the Hunt. What could a prince have done to get himself so cruelly exiled? Mark briefly considered trying to talk to Kieran but he quickly dismissed the idea. Kieran most likely would join the others soon in their hatred of him. With a sigh, Mark glanced away and continued to ride on in silence.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own the Dark Artifices, Cassandra Clare does.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has read this story so far. A special thank you to The Purple Warlock for your lovely reviews. I'm so glad you like the story and I hope you'll like this chapter just as much. Enjoy and let me know what you thought in a review.

Chapter 2: Punishment

In the next few weeks, the Hunt went on as normal, with one exception. Mark was no longer the only one that the Hunters mocked. Although Kieran was a prince of the Unseelie court, that rank had been stripped from him when he had been forced to join the Hunt and the others mocked him for it. They jeered at him, calling him Princeling and, in voices too low for Gwyn to hear them, they called him names that were much worse.

Mark couldn't help feeling a certain amount of sympathy for Kieran. After all, didn't the Hunters mock him for being a Shadowhunter every day? Didn't he ride alone, as Kieran did, because the others hated and shunned him?

He considered trying to speak to Kieran several times but he always dismissed the notion quickly. Kieran seemed determined that he would ride out his exile alone and Mark did not want to make an enemy of him when there was no need to.

One day, news reached the Wild Hunt that the Clave had hanged a group of Faeries for treason. Those Faeries had had friends in the Hunt and those friends now turned their fury on Mark.

"Look what your people have done now, Shadow-spawn!" Snarled a Hunter with a heavy silver cloak, "More Faerie blood spilled by Nephelim hands. Someone must pay for it."

The Hunter moved towards Mark, but Mark did not flinch. He had faced punishment from the Hunt before and he would not show weakness in front of them.

Without a word, the silver-cloaked Hunter pushed Mark down onto his knees and drew a coiled whip from his belt. He leaned in close to Mark and spoke in a voice that was full of a boiling hatred.

"Repeat after me Angel Boy," The hunter hissed, "Say, I am not a Shadowhunter. Do it, or I swear that I will whip you bloody."

Mark looked up at him. The other Hunters were gathered around them, most were smirking but Kieran, Mark noticed was not. In fact, he looked ... slightly sick. It made no sense to Mark but he put it to the back of his mind as he turned back to the Hunter in silver.

"I will not say it," Mark said, his voice strong and steady. "I will not say it, because it is a lie."

"Then you will be punished," The hunter said, and he ripped the shirt off Mark's body and brought the whip down hard across Mark's back.

Kieran watched the whipping with a sick feeling in his stomach. He did not want to watch the Hunters hurt Mark but there was nothing that he could do to stop them because they would punish him as well as Mark if he tried.

When it was over and Mark lay bloody and unconscious on the ground, the Hunters moved away but Kieran stayed. He carefully approached Mark and knelt beside him. He noticed that Mark was shivered so he lifted him gently in his arms and wrapped a blanket around him to keep him warm. He looked down into Mark's sleeping face. He was beautiful, Kieran thought and brave, to have taken the whipping without any visible signs of fear. Kieran felt Mark stir and looked down at him. As he watched, Mark's eyes began to flutter open.

As Mark, slowly regained consciousness, he became aware that he was in someone's arms. He opened his eyes and looked up, into Kieran's face. He shifted slightly and winced at the pain going through his back.

"Don't move too much," Kieran warned him quietly, "Your wounds are quite deep."

"This is not the first time that I have been punished by the hunt," Mark told Kieran, his voice sounding dry from lack of water. "But it is the first time that someone has helped me."

"I could not simply leave you," Kieran said, meeting Mark's eyes with his own.

"And why not? The others always do." Mark said, a tinge of bitterness colouring his voice.

"You may have noticed that I am not like the others," Kieran answered, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "And besides, I like you, Mark Blackthorn."

Mark looked at him in surprise. He had never expected those words to ever come out of the mouth of one of the Fair Folk.

"I think ... I think I like you too," Mark said, and for the first time since joining the Wild Hunt, he found himself smiling.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Artifices, Cassandra Clare does.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to The Purple Warlock for your lovely review! I'm so happy that you liked the chapter and I hope that you will like this one as well. Let me know what you think in a review.

Chapter 3: A New Friendship

That night, Kieran and Mark stayed up for a long time, talking in low voices so that the others would not hear them. Mark asked Kieran about his life before he had joined the Hunt and Kieran began to tell him about the dark and mysterious Unseelie court that had been his home.

"It's very different from the Seelie court," Kieran explained. "It was full and darkness and black magic. My father, the king, rules it with a fist of iron."

"Did you have many friends there?" Mark asked, genuinely curious.

"No, I never really made friends in the court," Kieran answered after a slight pause, "I was so much younger than the others and I did not practice dark magic in the same way that they did."

Mark looked at Kieran and he realised that beneath the royal exterior there was a boy who had known pain and loneliness in the same way that Mark had when he had been torn away from his family.

"Do not pity me," Kieran said after a moment's silence, "I did not need their companionship."

"But surely it must not have been very pleasant for you," Mark said, thinking of the way he had felt, so alone even though he was surrounded by others.

"I got used to that a long time ago," Kieran admitted, "It was really all I ever knew."

They sat for a while in silence, watching the stars. The quiet between them was not uncomfortable and Mark didn't feel the need to fill it with chatter. At last, Kieran spoke.

"Tell me of your life as a Nephelim," He said, "I have not met many Shadowhunters in my lifetime."

So, Mark began to tell him about the Clave and the hard Laws which governed the Nephelim and about his own family. As he talked, he found that it helped, to talk about the ones he loved and to be listened to.

"You must love them very much," Kieran said softly. "It sounds like they gave you a good home, despite the fact that you are part fey."

"It did not seem to matter to them," Mark agreed. "They were a loving family, and I would do anything to be able to go home."

"We are the same in that way," Kieran told him, "I too did not wish to join the hunt but I was forced to. I would be glad to go home, but I cannot. And so, Mark Blackthorn, I have a suggestion for you."

Mark looked at Kieran with interested eyes. "And what is your suggestion?"

"I suggest that we, that is to say you and I, should try to see the positive side of being here. Let's make an adventure out of it. What do you think?"

Mark thought about his words for a moment. Why not try to keep himself from being so miserable? Why not see to find some good in his situation? "I think that that is that best idea that I have heard since I joined the hunt." He answered, and Kieran's answering smile took his breath away.


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Artifices, Cassandra Clare does.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who reads this story. A special thanks to The Purple Warlock for your lovely review. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'm sorry that I didn't update sooner.

Chapter 4: The Clearing

When Kieran woke up the next morning, he found that he had fallen asleep near the place where Mark lay. Mark, Kieran saw, was not awake yet and Kieran found himself gazing at Mark's sleeping face. He looked peaceful in sleep, Kieran thought, and beautiful too.

Kieran's thoughts were cut off as Mark stirred and woke up. He blinked up at Kieran with sleep-filled eyes.

"Good morning, Mark," Kieran said softly, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I slept very well," Mark replied. "Did you?"

Before Kieran could answer, the loud, familiar sound of Gwyn's horn rang out. It was time to get moving.

As the Hunters set off, Kieran rode side by side with Mark. They didn't talk much, but instead rode on in a companionable silence. At one point, the hunters stopped and Kieran, instead of stopping, gestured to Mark to follow him.

"Where are we going?" Mark asked as he rode after Kieran into the trees.

"You'll see," He answered, turning slightly to smile over his shoulder. After a few moments of riding, they broke through the trees and found themselves in the strangest and most beautiful clearly that Mark had ever seen.

The trees had leaves which appeared to be solid gold and silver. The forest floor was dotted was tiny, jewel-like flowers and beautiful birds sang overhead.

"The place is beautiful," Mark told Kieran, sliding from his mount's back. "How did you know of it?"

"It is a placed under my father's control," Kieran answered, joining Mark on the ground. "I would often come here when I wanted quiet. You are the first person that I have shared that information with."

"I feel touched that you'd share this with me, Kieran." Mark said softly, meeting the faerie prince's eyes. There was something soft in his eyes, something that Mark did not expect.

"I think I will share many things with you, Mark Blackthorn." Kieran said softly and he smiled a soft smile that brought a slight blush to Mark's cheeks. Before he could do anything more though, they heard the faint sound of Gwyn's horn in the distance.

"We'd better go," Kieran said, and they got back onto their horses and rode off again to join the other hunters.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Artifices, Cassandra Clare does.

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait, guys. I meant to have this chapter written before now, but I didn't get around to it until now. As always, thanks to everyone who reads this story and a special thanks to The Purple Warlock for your lovely review. I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review and let me know.

Chapter Five: The Cairn

The rest of that day was unlike any that Kieran had spent since joining the wild hunt. He no longer felt as though he was completely alone, and that was thanks to Mark. He also realised that Mark too seemed different, less unhappy, he thought and it brought a small smile to his lips. Already, Kieran knew, he considered Mark the closest person to him which was a new and slightly frightening thought in his experience.

As they rode along, Mark couldn't help glancing at Kieran from time to time. He thought of the softening in the prince's eyes earlier that day and again, a small flush came into his face. He felt very touched, honoured even, that Kieran had shown the clearing to him and he began to wonder if he could share something with him, something that none of the other hunters knew, and that night, he got his chance.

The Wild Hunt had stopped at the bottom of a tall hill, with a cairn of stones at the top. Mark slipped away from the others and climbed the hill alone, leaning against the cairn when he got to the top. He often did this at night, giving the first stars the names of his family, and tonight was no different.

"Mark?" Said a soft voice behind him. Mark turned, already knowing who it was, and smiled a little.

"Kieran," He murmured, "I didn't hear you coming."

"I saw you leave," The prince said, "And I ... thought that I would come and see what you would do."

There was interest in Kieran's eyes, Mark thought, and maybe something else, something that he couldn't identify.

"Your scars from the beating have healed," Kieran said suddenly, touching a hand to Mark's back, where the vicious whip had come down.

"Yes," Mark agreed, "But they are still ugly."

Kieran moved closer to him until they stood inches apart. "There is no part of you that is ugly, Mark," He murmured and leaned in, softly pressing his lips to Mark's.

For a moment, Mark was too surprised to respond, but then, he relaxed, returning Kieran's kiss. He had never expected his first kiss to be with a boy, and he certainly hadn't expected Kieran to kiss him, but he found that he was glad that he had. There was something about the prince that drew Mark in, made him want to be near him. He tentatively wrapped his arms around Kieran, pulling him closer as he kissed him again.

Kieran could feel a smile curving his lips as Mark's arms went around him. He honestly had not been sure how Mark would react when he kissed him, but his reaction was better than he could've imagined.

After a few moments, Kieran pulled back and gave Mark a smile. He was glad that he had followed Mark, and he knew, without a great deal of doubt, that this moment was the start of a new, much happier, stage in their lives.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Artifices, Cassandra Clare does.

Author's Note: Again, I'm sorry for the wait guys, I'll try to update faster next time. I'm really happy that you guys enjoyed the last chapter! A special thanks to The Purple Warlock and LeoAndrea for your amazing reviews! I hope you enjoy the chapter and as always tell me what you think in a review.

Chapter 6: An Attack

That night, Kieran and Mark curled together under Kieran's warm blanket. They stayed up well into the night, whispering softly together so that the others wouldn't wake. There seemed to be a bubble of happiness around them, Mark thought, a bubble that seemed to protect them from the cruelty of the other hunters.

"You know," Mark whispered to Kieran, "I heard Gwyn speaking with the others earlier, he mentioned a visit to one of the Unseelie King's domains."

Kieran raised an eyebrow at that. "My father holds a huge revel every summer," Kieran explained, "I believe that he has decided to ask the Hunt to join it."

Mark glanced at the prince with interest. "Could that be because of you?" He asked softly, unsure if Kieran would like this line of questioning.

"I do not see why it would be," He said a little bitterly, "He has not shown much regard for me in the past."

Mark decided to let the subject drop because he could see that Kieran did not want to discuss it further. Instead they spoke together of their future in the hunt, and the adventures that they would have together. Finally, after many contented hours, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, they rose as usual and rode out with the other hunters. For some reason, Mark felt a certain feeling of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach that he could not quite explain. He glanced sideways at Kieran, to see if he felt it too, but Kieran seemed calm, and a slight smile was playing around the corners of his mouth.

Catching Mark's eye, Kieran caught the hint of unease in his expression and frowned slightly.

"Mark?" He asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"I'm not quite sure," Mark admitted, "I feel a little uneasy...and I'm not quite sure why."

Kieran gave him a faintly worried look, but before he could answer a volley of arrows whistled past them, so close that they tore their clothes.

"What is going on?" Kieran asked, surprise evident in his tone as he looked around. Out of the shadow of the trees came a group of faeries, all dressed in gleaming white armour that reminded Mark unpleasantly of Meliorn's.

"They're from the Seelie court," Mark muttered, "But what are they doing here? No faerie in his right mind would dare to challenge the hunt."

Apparently, the rest of the hunters were thinking the same thing, because they had all stopped now, staring with incredulous eyes at the Seelie knights.

"What is your business here?" Said Gwyn sharply, moving forward towards the group, "Why are you not with your Lady?"

"Our Queen has vanished," Said one of them simply, "We have decided to go our own way, the Fair Folk must change, because if we continue as we have been, then they will be destroyed."

With that, the knights drew their weapons, clearly ready to attack.

"You would be fools to attack us," Thundered Gwyn, "Not only do we outnumber you, we also outmatch you."

"That may be," One of them said, "But your people are part of the old ways of the fey, and the old ways are poison to us." At his words, they surged forward, attacking the hunters with viciousness and skill. The hunters attacked back, but just as it looked like they were winning, more Seelie knights appeared and the fight continued.

Mark and Kieran fought the enemy side by side. They made an excellent team, and they dispatched the enemy quickly and efficiently. As two of the knights approached them, they slashed out with their swords, knocking the enemy back. As the two faeries fell, Kieran suddenly cried out, falling sideways off his steed. Mark leaped down beside him, but he saw with horror that an elf arrow had pierced Kieran's shoulder no doubt sending poison into his veins, and blood was quickly spreading around the wound. He froze with shock and horror, no, he thought, this can't be happening. No way can I be losing someone else. As he thought it, he saw a dark figure hovering over hm... with a wicked-looking sword in his grip. With a vicious grin, he brought the sword down.


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Artifices, Cassandra Clare does.

Author's Note: To The Purple Warlock, as much as I'd love to do fluff all the time, this story is going to have some close calls, but I hope you'll bear with me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and as always, let me know what you think in a review.

Chapter 7: Almost Impossible Odds

As the sword came down, Mark flipped himself backwards and out of its way. The Seelie knight stumbled, and taking advantage of his weakness, Mark leaped to his feet and slashed out with his own bloody sword, slicing the knight's head off.

The faerie's body slumped to the ground and Mark scanned his surroundings, seeing that the other Seelies were gone and the hunters were approaching.

He knelt once again at Kieran's side, trying not to let dread overwhelm him as he saw how pale the prince's skin had become. The hunters didn't have much in the way of medical sullies, and Mark knew that Kieran's chances of survival were becoming more and more slim the longer he lay there.

"Gwyn?" He called, looking around for the Hunt's leader. Of all the Hunters, Gwyn was the only one who Mark would even consider asking for guidance about what he could do for Kieran. He was terrified for him, and there was no way that he could let him go, not now that he had given him his heart so completely.

Gwyn came forward, dropping down to kneel beside Mark.

"He was shot with an elf arrow," Mark said, "And I'm guessing it was poisonous, how do we cure it?"

Gwyn's expression was troubled, and Mark felt his heart sink as he watched his expression.

"There is only one cure for elf poison," The hunter said, his voice deep and grim. "But it lies a far way off from here, in the Unseelie court."

Mark stiffened, remembering what Kieran had told him about the court, and its dark magic and cold, unforgiving king. "What is the cure?" He asked, determined to show that he was strong.

"It is a plant, which grows at the edge of the King's palace grounds," Gwyn said, "You would have to ask the king to give it to you, but you should go now, or there will be no chance to save him."

"But I cannot leave him here," Said Mark, "It is called, and besides who is there to watch over him if I am not here?"

"I will remain with him," Gwyn said, "But if you are not back before dark, he will surely die."

Mark didn't need to discuss the situation further after that, he got onto his mount and rode with all speed to the Unseelie Court. It was a long journey, but it was a familiar one and he got there long before night fall.

When he arrived, he requested an audience with the king and to his surprise and relief, the king agreed to see him.

When he entered the throne room, his eyes immediately focused on the king. He bowed low, before rising and meeting the king's level gaze.

"What brings you to my domain?" The king asked in a deep, cold voice. Mark swallowed, trying not to feel intimidated by the power that was evident in the king's manner and voice.

"I have come here, to ask for the plant which will cure elf poison," He said, "Your son, Kieran, was injured with an elf arrow today, and without the plant he will surely die."

"And what do I care if he dies? He is of the Hunt now, he is not a concern of mine."

Mark felt furious at the king's dismissive words, but he controlled his feelings with an effort. "I am willing to do anything for you if you will give it to me." He said, knowing that the promise was a bad idea, even if he gave it.

"Well..." The king said, "In that case, I'll give you your plant, but you'll owe me a favour."

Mark frowned a little, but he stood straight, looking at the king with a steady gaze. He'd do whatever the king asked of him, if it meant that Kieran would be saved.

"What is this favour?" He asked, knowing that he couldn't waist time worrying about whether his choice had been wise or not.

"Well, I don't know yet," The king said, "But never fear, I'll call on you when I need something."

Mark gave him a nod of acknowledgement. "So, your majesty, where is this plant? Time is of the essence."

The king gave him a brief set of directions, and handed him a small jar which he was to fill with the juice of the plant's fruit. Mark did this, and then he sped back to the place where he had left Kieran.

When he got there, he saw with horror that Kieran was even paler than before, and he was barely breathing at all. Mark rushed to Kieran's side and knelt beside him. He gently tipped his head back, and dripped the juice into his mouth.

He waited, watching his lover's face anxiously, and as the seconds passed, his heart began to grow heavy with dread. Then, just as he was about to lose hope, Kieran's eyelids fluttered open.

"Kieran?" Mark whispered, hope and joy beginning to make his heart pound rapidly, "Kieran...are you all right?"

"Mark...I...what happened?" Kieran asked, and he reached out to take Mark's hand, squeezing it for some sort of reassurance.

"You were shot (an elf arrow," Mark whispered, "But it's all right, I went to your father, and got the plant to make you better."

"You went...to my father?" Kieran asked, and his voice was guarded now, full of an emotion that Mark couldn't identify. "Oh Mark...don't you know what this means? My father wouldn't have given you that plant without the promise of a favour...Mark, those favours...most of the time, they are fatal to the one who owes a doubt to him."


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Artifices, Cassandra Clare does.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry that I haven't updated sooner. I'll try to make this chapter extra good to make up for it a bit.

Chapter 8: The Revel

Mark looked at Kieran for a moment, trying to make his expression calm. He'd known of course that the King's favour wouldn't be pleasant... but fatal? He shook his head. It was worth it, he thought firmly, he'd do anything, even sacrifice himself, to make sure that Kieran remained safe.

"It'll be fine," He told Kieran, squeezing his hand gently. "We've both been through too much to let this favour worry us. You just focus on getting some rest, all right?"

"I cannot," He said, "Don't you remember, Mark? We have the revel tonight, we'll need to be there. It's being hosted by some of my father's Lords."

Mark frowned at his words. He'd forgotten about the revel, and he knew that Kieran was right, they couldn't skip this one, no matter how exhausted Kieran most likely was.

As Mark was thinking this, Gwyn approached, his expression showing just the faintest signs of relief.

"Good, you're awake, Kieran," He said gruffly, "Now, we'd best get going, the rebel begins in a few hours, and we have a hard ride ahead of us."

Mark frowned, shooting Kieran a concerned look. He knew that he couldn't argue, that they had to get going, but still he wished that he could somehow get Kieran out of having to go.

Seeing Mark's look, Kieran met his gaze, his expression slightly defiant. "Don't fuss, Mark," He murmured, "Let us get on with it."

He got up, and Mark rose too, moving towards his horse, who was waiting nearby. On impulse, he gestured to Kieran to get on, then when Kieran, after a hesitant moment, did get up, Mark got up behind him, wrapping his arms loosely around Kieran's waste and gripping the reins.

They flew upwards, skimming over the trees, and Mark felt a wild pleasure go through him. He'd never ridden like this, with someone else, before and it gave him a frill, one that he should see that Kieran felt too.

"So," Mark said as they flew along, "What should I expect at this revel?" He felt Kieran tense a little, and he frowned, about to say that it didn't matter, but then Kieran answered him.

"Expect lots of things," Kieran said, "The Fair Folk, as you know, love our revels. So, expect to dance until your feet hurt, expect the politics of the Court... but most of all..." He hesitated, letting his sentence trail off. "Expect some... judgement, I suppose you would say. Although you ride with the Hunt, well, you are not a full-blooded faerie, they may not be kind to you."

"And well they be kind to you?" Mark asked. "You said that you didn't have many friends in your father's court."

"My concern is not for myself," Kieran said calmly, and he would say no more on the subject, so they rode in silence, all the way to the revel.

Mark's first sight of the revel would stay with him for a long, long time. Faeries of all shapes and sizes, with skin in all the colours imaginable, whirled to the strange and lovely music in the meadow below. Mark felt a strange pull at his heart as they landed on the edge of the field, a strong desire to join in, to dance, to become a part of the moving kaleidoscope of faeries.

"You must be careful," Kieran murmured, "It can be overwhelming, being at this large a revel for the first time. Stay close to me, and you will be fine."

"Dance with me?" Mark asked him, that strange pull still strong in his blood. Kieran nodded, but he took hold of Mark's arm, moving them to the very edge of the meadow, a fair distance from the other dancers. He didn't know why at first, but then he remembered Kieran's earlier words, and he understood, Kieran was trying to keep them away from anyone who might not approve of Mark's Shadowhunter brood. Mark knew that this was probably the smart thing to do, but he couldn't help being a little disappointed, that strange pull wanted him to whirl into the censer of the dancers, to become one with the faeries around him.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, and turned to face Kieran. The prince's eyes met his own, and he smiled, despite the tiredness that Mark could still see in him under the surface.

"Shall we?" Kieran asked, and he took Mark's hand, the other arm wrapping around "around waist. In answer, Mark wrapped his free arm around Kieran, and they danced, their bodies close together as they moved with the music.

They stayed that way for a long time, letting the music surround them, fill them with a fierce joy. They danced for what seemed like forever, and Mark felt the fear of the fear turn to relief and joy as the two lovers danced until dawn.


End file.
